


The Contender

by AnnieVH



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Gen, Politics, gaston is a bad boyfriend, single dad gold
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-27
Updated: 2018-04-02
Packaged: 2019-02-07 10:15:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,797
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12839052
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnnieVH/pseuds/AnnieVH
Summary: Gold's first challenge as Belle's campaign manager shows up on day one, but maybe he misjudged Miss French's commitment to winning this race.A short follow up to “Family Politics”.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> FAMILY POLITICS can be found [here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/11181615/chapters/24965349).

 

“I hate the both of you,” Gold said.

“Don't say you hate me, father, I might tell my therapist,” Gideon said from the backseat of the car, eyes on his cellphone and looking anything but bothered at his father's outburst.

Neal didn't even care to say anything, instead turning to his brother and teasing, “Yeah, and dad already gives Dr. Hopper way too much money, right?”

“Maybe if he didn't say things like that, I wouldn't need therapy to begin with.”

On the rearview mirror, Gold saw his youngest give him a wink. The prospect of him going back to work and being a part of Belle's campaign seemed to have lifted his spirits since Henry Mills' funeral. Gold would have been relieved if he weren't too busy being pessimistic.

“And people thought he was fit to adopt you,” Neal said, parking the car two blocks from the school. “There, safely delivered. Enjoy the horrors of high school.”

“Thanks.”

“Give your father a kiss,” Gold said, seeing him open the door and get ready to run.

“I'm getting mixed messages here, father. Do you hate me or...”

“Gideon, I _will_ walk you to the gate and I _will_ loudly call you my sweet little pumpkin pie if you don't stop being difficult.”

Neal hissed. “He did that to me once. Emma was laughing for days.”

“Dr. Hopper will hear about this!” Gideon said, but he gave his father a kiss on the cheek which got a little smile out of him. To his brother, he said, “Bye, criminal.”

“Bye, Hot Topic.”

“And come straight home!” Gold yelled, after him. “You have an English test tomorrow!”

But Gideon had already rushed down the street and was pretending not to hear him.

“I'll make him study,” Neal said, starting the car again. “We'll cram for it together.”

“No, you won't. You'll probably be playing _Mario Kart_ by the time I get home.”

“No, no, I've made a note of his weekly schedule, so you can focus on your new job.”

Gold looked skeptical.

“What?” Neal asked. “I'm trying to be responsible here. As I told you I would.”

“I know you told me, but to actually see you make an effort is... disturbing.”

“Well, get used to it. I said I'd help you through it and help you through it I will. I even got one of these... bullet journal thingies that Gideon can't seem to shut up about. It's uhn...”

He reached inside his jacket and took out a little notebook, like the ones his brother carried around with him at all times.

“It's got everything,” he said, handing it over to his dad. “Groceries, your schedule, dinner plans-”

“Does it have a reminder to stay out of trouble?”

“As a matter of fact, it does.”

Gold thought he was kidding but, upon checking, he found the word BEHAVE written in capital letters inside a box that had been titled “Weekly Goals”. Next to it, Neal had drawn a cartoonish spray can. Gold didn't want to feel optimistic because this was only Monday and Neal got bored of activities very quickly, but, overall, it was a promising start.

“I still hate the both of you for making me do this,” Gold said, stubborn.

“Thinking of turning back now?”

“Always.”

“Never! You're not a quitter and we both know it. Just don't be too mean to Belle when she shows up today.”

“If she can't handle me being mean-”

“Yeah, yeah, no cry babies policy, whatever.”

Gold flipped through the little notebook, looking for something to criticize, but Neal seemed to have gotten everything he needed down and, more to the point, correctly, in a more or less organized manner.

His son said, “Honestly, what kind of boss are you going to be when we're actually working on her campaign together?”

“Get used to it. I've been told I'm a real slave driver.” He returned the notebook to his son just as he parked in front of the pawnshop. “You might want to get a proper agenda if you're really doing this.”

“Okay.”

“And don't buy any more candy at the grocery store,” he said. “You're both eating way too much sugar as it is. And for the love of god, don't forget the laundry in the-”

“Dad, you're micromanaging me and this is day one,” Neal said. “If you don't stop, _I'll_ walk you to the front door and loudly call you pumpkin pie, and the whole town will know you're just a big softie.”

“Low blow.”

“Go do your thing and I'll do the chores. I promised you I would.”

Gold shook his head. This wasn't going to go well, he just knew it. “Just stay out of-”

“I know!” Neal held up the open notebook and pointed at the word BEHAVE. “I wrote it down so I won't forget. Go!”

Reluctantly, Gold left the car and went into his shop. The funeral had been two days ago and he hadn't been able to relax ever since. Neal and Gideon, though, they were excited. The thought of helping their friend make history and fulfill her ambition seemed to have brought a new determination to the both of them.

Any other day, Gold would've been glad because Gideon, who never cared for anything other than what was in his books, seemed finally interested in being part of a group activity and Neal, who'd been wandering aimlessly for almost two years now, was finally willing to give his life a new direction. However, Gold knew that this was all going to be short-lived. Belle was young and idealistic, full of good intentions. Much like Henry had once been. Unlike him though, she seemed to be doing this out of a misguided sense of civil duty. She wanted to make things better where Henry had only wanted to prove he was good for something, to impress his father and the long list of overachievers in the family. Just like his marriage to Cora, his career was a badge of honor.

Belle wanted to do well by her community, just like when she'd fought to keep the library open. She was ready to be a champion of lost causes. This sort of image (especially on a young and beautiful girl like her) was easy to sell, but it would crumble the moment people realized she had no idea what she was doing. Or perhaps she'd quit halfway through because politics was a dirty game, and not this romantic dream she'd built it up to be in her head.

If he hadn't made a promise to the boys, Gold might have considered pulling back now – and maybe, just maybe, give Cora and Regina's offer a little more consideration.

The bell above the door rang and two sets of footsteps walked into the shop. This was not the time to look hesitant. He went to meet Belle French in the other room, glad that she was a punctual three minutes early. This morning, she'd put on a sweater and knit skirt that were proper but not presidential, though maybe that was for the best. Cora and Regina would be facing each other armed with sharp tongues and sensible pantsuits (Cora in black, Regina with a piece in red); somehow, he didn't think Belle could pull off that look. Compared to the both of them, she'd look like a little girl trying to dress up like her mother and the newspaper would lap at that.

 _The stripper heels have to go, though_ , Gold thought, stealing a glance at her feet. She was going to need a pair of sensible pumps, black. And modest dresses that gave her a more mature look. There were a mere seven-year difference between Regina and herself, and yet Belle looked way too young for politics.

Her fiance had come along but Gold had managed to forget his name in just two days. Thank god they were on last-name basis. Having him here was actually a good idea, though he'd much rather have this conversation with Belle alone. Eventually, it would be Mr. Legume's turn to sit down and have a heart-to-heart about how infidelities and other such secrets could hurt his fiance's already slim odds of winning.

However, Gold took one look at their faces and realized this wasn't going to go smoothly at all.

“Morning, Mr. Gold,” Belle said, putting her purse on the counter a little harder than necessary.

The fiance came to shake his hand. “Mr. Gold, it's good to see you.”

His smile was all teeth and no honesty.

“Mr. Legume.”

“Gage, please.”

“Gage,” he repeated, hoping this time the name would stick. He turned to Belle. “You're punctual, that's a good quality.”

Belle nodded but didn't smile. “Yes, well, we have a lot to talk about.”

“Belle and I were having a bit of a discussion this weekend,” Gage said, still sounding too pleasant. “We were hoping you might help us by providing some input.”

Gold looked at them, taking in their displeased faces. Gage was overcompensating with a smile, Belle wasn't even trying. The discussion they'd claimed to have, he'd bet, had been a loud one and it was far from over.

“I'm not a marital counselor,” he said, curtly. “If you're having issues, you'll have to sort them on your own, and I might add, before we start doing this. We'll have no time for petty fighting after that.”

“Our fight is far from petty,” Belle said.

“It's also far from being a complicated issue,” Gage said, sharply. “Belle is making it difficult.”

Gold looked at Belle. “Miss French, if you can't be professional about this-”

“Gage wants to run for Mayor.”

Belle's voice was flat but it still caught Gold by surprise. Despite being calm, he could tell that she wasn't happy about it. Not at all.

Gold sighed. “Why does everybody want to run this hellhole?”

Gage laughed as though Gold was making a joke instead of asking an honest question. Truly, this widespread interest in politics was beyond his understanding.

“I know,” Gage said. “But we all have to start somewhere.”

“I don't understand what this is,” Gold said. He pointed at Belle, “You said that you wanted to run for Mayor not two days ago. You told me yourself that you were determined to do it.”

“I still am.”

“Then why is this happening? What is he doing here?”

“If I may-” Gage tried.

“You may not,” Gold said, wiping the smile off his face. “Miss French, this is the sort of thing that you should've dealt with on your own.”

“Absolutely,” she agreed, going red on the face.

“I'm not here to help you sort your relationship issues.”

“And I take full responsibility for-”

“Good! Then go home, fight it off, and come back here when you're ready to take this seriously.”

“You see?” Gage said. “I told you he'd agree with me.”

“I'm not agreeing with anybody,” Gold said. “I am kicking the both of you out of my shop.”

“But clearly you can see how she's unprepared for this-”

“I am not unprepared,” Belle protested, sounding angry for the first time. Gold made a mental note to talk to her about keeping her emotions in check. “I've been getting ready for this for over a year now. I've brought this up several times-”

“I can't remember you mentioning this once, Belle!” Gage interrupted, sounding outraged.

Gold could see Belle grinding her jaw, clearly holding back the accusation that he never paid attention to anything she said, or something of the sort.

“Besides, a year is not enough,” Gage said.

Gold said, “And how long have _you_ been preparing yourself for this election?”

“I've gone to Law School, Mr. Gold,” he said, as if that was a badge of honor. “I've been getting ready for this for years now.”

“Mr. Gold, I understand that you are a man of your word,” Belle said. “If we already have an arrangement-”

“I was not consulted about this,” Gage said. “As your future husband, don't I get a say in this?”

He directed the question to Gold, who narrowed his eyes. He'd known something like this would happen. He'd seen more than one spouse react poorly to such news. Upon learning he'd taken on another politician after promising to lie back and help her raise the kids, Milah had come close to asking for a divorce on the spot.

“Do you see now why I asked you what your fiance thought about this?” Gold asked her.

Sheepishly, she answered, “Yes.”

“Which is something I would have asked of you, Mr. Legume, if you had come to ask for my advice instead of her.”

“But clearly we can't both run,” Gage said.

“Not against each other, no. So you either decide who's running-”

“The person who's running for Mayor is me,” Belle said, and she sounded so determined that Gold found himself shutting up and looking at her. Gage rolled his eyes. “That is not up for debate, and I've said so to my fiance long before we got here.”

“That's not a decision you can make on your own,” Gage said.

“And if you'd told me you didn't want me to run for the sake of our relationship, then I'd have respected your wishes, but you don't want me to run because you want me to work on your campaign. That is not going to happen. I've done the work, I've gone to town meetings-”

“That is not the point-”

“It is the point,” Gold said. To Belle, he said, “You may finish.”

Gage shook his head, but didn't interrupt again.

“I've done the work, I've gone to the meetings, I've been getting ready for a year now and I would have liked to have more time but we don't. I either do this now or we won't stand a chance. I'm doing it because I believe I can win. Gage wants to do it because he needs a hobby.”

“It's a career choice, Belle,” Gage said, a little louder. “It might have been impulsive, yes, I admit it, but nobody was expecting Henry Mills to have a heart attack!”

“I've told him this before and I informed him that I had already made an arrangement with you. Gage believes that he can convince you to work on _his_ campaign instead and that he is the best candidate. I couldn't convince him otherwise and he says the only opinion that matters is yours.”

Gold stared at them. “What, you want me to choose?”

“ _He_ wants you to choose. _I_ want you to honor our agreement.”

“I want you,” Gage said, angrily, “to talk some sense into her. Her father agrees with me and I'm sure the rest of town will too.”

Gold was about to tell the both of them to please go to hell and close the door on their way out. This had already been a massive waste of time and he couldn't believe he'd consider this to begin with.

However, as the both of them stared at him, waiting an answer, something occurred to him.

“Why do you think you're the best candidate?” he asked Gage.

Belle took a step forward, suddenly panicked, “But Mr. Gold!”

“You had your chance to speak, Miss French, now it's his turn. If you couldn't convince your boyfriend to vote for you, perhaps he has a point. And wipe that smile off you face, lad,” he snapped when he saw Gage smirk at her. “You didn't do much better. You have one minute to change my mind.”

“Mr. Gold, Belle is a clever girl, I am not denying that,” he granted. “But she studied Library Sciences-”

“I'm not asking why she shouldn't do it, I'm asking why you should.”

Gage blinked at him. “Well, as I said I've gone to Law School and I'll be taking my Bar Exam next month. I've been preparing myself for a career in politics for a while now. I may not have been to as many town meetings as Belle-”

“Or any,” Belle muttered under her breath.

“But I know how this town works. Besides, we've never had a woman Mayor before and yes, I know, Belle, that is not a good thing and I'm not saying it is. I'm just saying this is still a backwards town and a man might stand a better chance against Cora Mills. There's a reason why she hasn't run so far even though everyone knows she was the one calling the shots.”

As much as it pained him to admit it, Gage had a point. Cora was a better politician than her husband but she still thought it smarter to hide behind him until she'd built a platform. She was still the most likely to succeed, at this point, but if he added a man into the mixture people would take their gender bias into the voting polls. It didn't matter that this young man clearly didn't know what he was doing, he _looked_ like a politician and that carried weight.

“Very well, here's what we are going to do,” Gold said. “And this is all I'm going to say on the matter. Once I'm done, one of you will get out of my shop and stop wasting my time.”

“Of course,” Gage said. “That's fair.”

Beside him, Belle had gone pale but she still nodded.

“I will ask the both of you three questions about this town. Whoever answers them correctly can try and convince me to work with them, because neither of you seem like a safe bet at the moment.”

Belle closed her eyes for a second. This clearly had gotten completely out of her control and it hadn't been the way she'd plan this at all.

 _Welcome to politics, dearie_.

She opened her eyes and said, “Very well.”

Gold walked around the glass counter and took a shiny call bell from a drawer. He placed it on the counter, before the contending couple.

“Question one-”

“Do we just ring the bell, or...?” Gage asked, while Belle had already taken a step forward.

“Question one,” Gold repeated. “To win this election, there's one group of people whose support you're going to need. Which group is that?”

Gage rang the bell so fast Gold feared he might have broken it. He said, “The support of the most affluent families in town.”

“You are incorrect.”

In the stunned silence that followed, Belle touched the call bell delicately and said, “The miners.”

“Correct. Question two-”

“Hold on,” Gage said. “This is incorrect. The Spencers, the Tremaines, they're the ones who funded and who supported the last three Mayors who were elected.”

“And the last six Mayors had the support of the miners,” Belle said, calmly.

“But there are only thirty of them!”

“Twenty seven,” Belle said. “They haven't worked in the mines in over three years but they're a symbol of Storybrooke and they can tilt the election in your favor. They're very good at mobilizing the rest of the community. Besides, Cora's been rubbing elbows with the wealthy families for years now, you can't steal their support from her. The miners have been her cause for ten years, but she couldn't keep all the promises she's made. They will switch their support if we present them with a better alternative.”

“And that is why she's correct,” Gold said, trying not to sound too impressed. “Let's move on. Question two.”

Gage glared at his fiance who didn't seem to notice.

“Other than the miners, there's a pressing issue that should be addressed. What is it?”

Gage looked at Belle. She kept her hands folded and waited. Gold could tell that she knew the answer and was dying to say it out loud, but she made no moves for the bell.

“What? No guesses? Education? Public safety?”

Gage rang the bell. Trying to sound confident, he said, “Education.”

Belle rang the bell. “Tourism.”

“She's correct again.”

“ _How_? How is education more important than tourism?”

“Storybrooke has one school and it is surprisingly well funded because all wealthy families have to send their kids to study there. The Hermans have just donated in a new computer lab. On the other hand, our overall economy is dependent on our tourism and it's been going down in recent years. Quaint little towns in the middle of nowhere with nothing to do are not as popular as they used to be.”

“That's two out of three, Miss French. Would you like to concede, Mr. Legume?” Gold asked.

“Just ask the damn question.”

He was getting under his skin, Gold could tell. He couldn't help but think it would be hilarious to watch that boy in a political debate.

“Very well, question three: what will be your greatest challenge in this election?”

A little wrinkle appeared in between Belle's eyebrows. This time, she rang the bell first.

“Being respectful of Henry's memory,” she said. “If you say the wrong thing, people might think it's in poor taste and that will cost you votes.”

“You're incorrect, Miss French, though that is still a good point.” Gold looked at Gage. “Would you like to take a guess?”

Gage looked angry. Whether because he couldn't think of anything or because he'd just been beaten – by a girl, no less – Gold couldn't tell. He said, “This is ridiculous.”

“Congratulations, Miss French,” Gold said. “I'll see you in my office.”

He turned around.

“Wait, what is the answer, then?”

“You don't need to know, you're not running.”

Gage huffed. To Belle, he said, “This changes nothing. You _know_ that I'm right-”

“Miss French, it's already 9:23,” Gold said. “You have exactly seven minutes to get this under control, or else I won't bother seeing you at all.”

 


	2. Chapter 2

Gold listened to the fight that ensued from the other room, though it wasn't much of a fight. Gage, struggling to keep his voice down, told Belle that this wasn't the way to go. They should return home and talk about it. Gold hadn't done this in seven years and, really, could she trust him to go against Cora? And even if she could trust him (which she shouldn't, mind you), his very public affair with the Mayor's wife was still fresh in the minds of everybody in Storybrooke. That was going to hurt her campaign, he had no doubts about it – that is, if she really decided to run, he still didn't think that was a good idea...

Gage spoke fast, never stopping to take a breath. Whenever Belle tried to get a word in, he'd immediately interrupt her. Gold consulted his watch, the minutes ticking by fast. He'd been around politicians long enough to recognize a filibuster when he heard one.

Then, at the five minute mark, he heard a sorrowful sigh from Belle, so loud and painful that Gage couldn't ignore it. In a defeated voice, she said, “Maybe you're right, maybe we should just go home and talk about it. I'm sure I can talk to Mr. Gold some other time.”

“Yes, well,” Gage said, “I'm glad that you agree with me.”

“I do.”

“This is for the best, Belle.”

“I'm sure it is.”

Gold heard their footsteps, then the bell above the door, once when the door opened, and once again when it closed.

Followed by the sound of the latch.

In the privacy of his office, Gold allowed himself to grin.

It took Gage a moment to realize he'd been locked outside but, once it dawned on him, he started banging on the door so hard that Gold feared he might break it down.

Belle's heels clacked across the wooden floor and she appeared at the door a moment later, saying, “Six minutes.”

“Six and a half,” Gold corrected her. “If he breaks my door, I'll send you the bill.”

“Yes, sorry about that.” She showed him her phone. “I've texted him, he'll give this up in a moment.”

On cue, Gage's insistence died with a final, loud, frustrated groan.

Belle turned off her phone just as it had begun to ring. She slipped it into her purse to show that she would not be distracted.

“Take a seat,” Gold said, pointing at one of two chairs he'd sat up in the middle of the room.

Belle sat down and crossed her legs in an elegant motion, her eyes taking in her surroundings. Perhaps he should've seen her at his home study, which looked much more professional than the back of his pawnshop. A long time ago, this room was organized and proper for such meetings, but now it resembled an inventory more than anything else.

“You have some interesting trinkets here,” she said, sounding genuinely interested.

Gold didn't want to waste time with chitchat.

“I won't tolerate a repeat performance of this nonsense,” he said.

“That's... more than fair,” Belle said, nodding in accordance.

“The fact that you weren't able to solve this without my help worries me. Even if you convince him to support you, what is to say that you won't change your mind halfway through-”

“I won't change my mind. Gage would though. He can't stick to something for more than three months without getting bored. It's a miracle he graduated Law School at all.”

Gold sized her up for a moment. “I still have half a mind to call this off.”

“Because of Gage?”

“Because you couldn't stand up to him.”

“I _did_ stand up to him.”

“After three days, yes. That's going to be a problem.”

Belle seemed like she wanted to argue but was holding her tongue. Perhaps she knew that he had a point. Ultimately, she gave him another nod, resigned. “Then take my word that nothing like this will happen again.”

Gold was skeptical but he still said, “Well, you answered my questions and that got me curious.”

“Speaking of which,” Belle said, “what will be my greatest challenge this upcoming election?”

“You should know. He wouldn't anyway but I could tell he wasn't serious about it when he got the first question wrong. You, on the other hand, already have the answer because I gave it to you.”

Belle thought about it, that little wrinkle once again showing in between her eyebrows. Slowly, she nodded, “Cora and Regina being in the election at the same time.”

“Clever. Why is that?”

“Because they'll team up against me.”

“Yes. If there's one thing those two can agree on is that everybody else is inferior to them. They'll enjoy ruining this for you.”

Gold got a clipboard and a pen and wrote the date at the top of the first page.

“Mend things with your boyfriend,” he said. “He does have a point about this town being backwards at times. Cora is a grieving widow. Regina is married to her job. You having a husband is actually a bonus. It shows you have family values.”

“Is this going to be my strategy?” she asked. “A woman with family values? Because I've had some ideas-”

“You're not here to talk strategy, this is a job interview.”

Belle blinked at him, slowly, trying to maintain her patience. “Just how many of these will I have to go through until you agree to be my campaign manager?”

“That remains to be seen. I'm going to ask you a few questions.”

“Okay.”

“They're invasive and unpleasant.”

To his surprise, she smiled. “You're asking for dirt.”

“Yes.”

“And who's to say that Gage doesn't have a point? What if you decide not to do this and then you join Cora's campaign with all of the information just I gave you?”

“Lots of skeletons in your closet, is it?”

She gave him a shrug, which was about the most neutral reply she could muster without giving anything away.

Gold said, “Well, I'm not interested in joining Cora's campaign, nor Regina's for that matter. And if you don't trust me, which might actually be the first show of good judgment I've seen on your part, then trust that I wouldn't break my sons' hearts by betraying their friend.”

“They must mean the world to you.”

Gold quirked an eyebrow at her.

Belle explained, “Or else, you wouldn't have considered me. You said it was their idea.”

“Are you going to answer my questions or not?”

She still considered it for a moment, her eyes on his face, examining him, looking for signs of deceit. Finally, she nodded.

“Can you think of anything that could hurt your campaign?” he asked.

“No.”

Gold could have rolled his eyes. That was always the answer he got.

“Think harder. Have you ever committed any crimes?”

“No. Have you?”

“This isn't about me. Have you-”

“Well, it seems only fair,” she cut in. “As far as I'm concerned, you're a part of my campaign. If anyone gets dirt on you, then Cora and Regina will not hesitate to use that against _me_. I remember Henry's second election.”

Gold couldn't argue, even though he wanted to. The affair with Cora had been spread on the news as soon as Henry had been first elected, stayed around for a good two months, and then it disappeared. When Henry was about to run for his second term, it resurfaced, all the texts and the letters and the gossip that wasn't entirely true but that made for a juicy reading. His opponents had gone after Cora for being his Deputy, but some had brought up Gold's name, saying he was a shady character and insinuating some of his deals couldn't possibly have been legal, and that his connection to Cora was something to be looked into.

Honestly, it was a testament to the lack of options in this town that Henry had been reelected at all.

“No, I haven't committed any crimes,” he said.

“No outstanding parking tickets?”

“No.”

“Tax evasion?” she insisted. “No fast-tracking Gideon's adoption?”

“I'm very careful with my taxes and Gideon's adoption moved painfully slow. You can check the paperwork for yourself if you wish.”

“How about-”

“How long were you undocumented?”

That made her shut her mouth quickly and think very hard before she opened it again.

“Briefly,” was all that she said.

“How long is 'briefly'?”

“Mom had a student VISA back then, back when we moved here. We overstayed, but the situation was resolved in six months. I was only a child so it was out of my hands.”

Gold nodded and scribbled it down. “Immigrant is a delicate word nowadays. Child or not that will reflect poorly on you.”

“And you dare say this isn't the moment to take action.”

“Any topless selfies of you on the internet?”

“No,” she answered, unfazed.

“If there are, you better tell me now. It's easier to manage these things from the get go than to wait for them to creep up on you.”

“Trust me, I'm good. Unless you count bathing suits.”

Gold scribbled.

“Seriously?” Belle said, mildly annoyed.

“Neither Cora nor Regina would be caught dead in a bikini, Miss French.”

“How about you?”

Gold smirked. “No one wants to see that.”

“What about your-” Belle cleared her throat. “Your letters to Cora? Anything that hasn't been published in the papers yet?”

“Regina published the very last one of those. You won't be caught by surprised there.”

“Good.”

“What about your boyfriend?”

She opened her mouth to speak, but hesitated. “Perhaps he should be present for this.”

Gold could read between the lines. “I'm not surprised.”

“I've deleted them,” she said, hurriedly. “I wouldn't keep that on my phone.”

“Good. Anything salacious in your boyfriend's phone that he might leak to the press?”

“He wouldn't do that.”

“That's not what I asked.”

Belle seemed to think about it. “Nothing too salacious.”

“Define _too_ salacious.”

Belle stared at him and Gold thought that she was going to snap at him for being so indelicate. Henry had been furious when he'd questioned his faithfulness and his sexuality. However, she didn't say a word. Very calmly, she retrieved her cellphone from her purse, turned it on and spent a moment sliding her finger up and down the screen. When she handed it over, her face was blank but there was a little pink tint to her cheeks.

“This is the worst I can think of,” she said.

Gold read over the section she'd handed and did his best not to betray any emotion. As far as scandalous goes, this wasn't nearly as bad as he had expected. In fact, he was more distracted by Gage's poor typing skills than the content of his messages.

 

_I can' twait ot fck you tonight its been too long_

 

Belle's replies, on the other hand, were almost elegant.

 

_I want to kiss your collarbone. I love the sound you make when I do that._

 

It was like they were taking part in different conversations and speaking different languages, but the flirting continued for the next two hours. It was within what Gold would classify as “normal sex”, without anything too shocking. If anything, it made her fiance look much worse than she did for the poor grammar and crude language alone. Belle's writing felt like a love letter – not that those couldn't cause someone a lot of trouble.

Gold continued to scroll, looking for damaging information. At the bottom of the conversation, after more trivial exchanges, he saw the last text she'd send.

 

_Don't ruin this for me. We'll talk when I'm done._

 

His reply had been angry.

 

_IF YOU DON' TANSWER THIS, WERE DONE!!!_

 

It'd come only seconds after Belle's. She was bound to have seen it. Yet, here she was.

“Well?” she pressed.

“Your fiance needs to learn how to type.”

“Gage isn't good with tiny keyboards,” she said, with a faint smile.

“Neal types like that,” Gold said. “Drives me up the wall.”

“But do you think this can harm my campaign?”

“Henry and Cora won after our texts and letters were published, and that was much worse than what you have here.”

“Yes,” Belle said, without even realizing. When Gold looked at her, she said, “I read them, before asking you to be my campaign manager.”

“That was clever of you. Then you'll know that this is rather tame in comparison.”

Belle took her phone back. If she was embarrassed by the situation, her face didn't betray her.

“Your sexting might be unimpressive, but Regina could still make a field trip out of it,” he said. “Delete it. And delete it on your fiance's phone as well. Humiliated men get vengeful.”

“Gage will be fine. He overreacts, sometimes. I'm sure I can turn him around.”

Gold wasn't so sure but he still said, “Having him by your side would be an advantage. Like I said, Cora will be playing the role of the loving mother and grieving widow to her advantage. Family values might be the one thing you have that Regina doesn't.”

“I said I'll talk to him.”

“He wasn't too pleased.”

“Yes, well, he overreacts, I told you.”

“You shouldn't have made this decision without talking to him.”

Belle raised an eyebrow at him. “I _did_ talk to him about it, he just refused to acknowledge it.”

“Everything he does, or did, will affect you.”

“Yes, I imagine you'll have to have this conversation with him as well,” she said, clearly not looking forward to it.

“Yes. But I can give you until nightfall to turn him around.”

He watched her jaw grow tight because a single day might not be enough. Still, she didn't argue.

“Any lesbian lovers I should know about?” he asked.

Belle frowned. “Gage?”

“You.”

“Oh. No. Unless you're counting Truth or Dare.”

Gold scribbled down on his clipboard. He was sure that, in two months, a five-second video of Miss French kissing another college girl was going to ruin this election.

“I'm pro LGBTQ rights, though,” she informed him, with a hint of defiance, like challenging him to say it wasn't a good idea.

“Good, they're in vogue now,” he said. “That and women's rights. Though really, we have about three people who are out in this town.”

“It's way more than that.”

Gold looked at her.

Belle explained, “I talk to people. And as I've said, I've done the work. Do you have any other questions for me?”

He tapped the clipboard with the pen, thinking. “This is the moment to tell me anything you might think of, you know?”

“I know.”

“Whatever bodies you might have buried in the past, it doesn't matter. If you tell me now, I will have time to fix it.”

“My life is very boring.”

“No married lovers, no secret life as a stripper to put yourself through college?”

“I put myself through college by working menial jobs and not sleeping for four years.”

“Good. How is your father taking this?”

“He's... I'll turn him around too.”

“You're going to need his support on this.”

“I know.”

“And if he's got any pending parking tickets-”

“We'll take care of everything.”

“Good.”

“Is that it?”

“For now.”

“And you'll be my campaign manager?”

Again, Gold tapped the clipboard with the pen. “If I find out you've lied to me, I'll quit and leave you to the wolves.”

The threat didn't seem to bother her at all. In fact, Belle seemed ready to smile.

“I haven't lied,” she said. “I never do.”

“And yet, you want to be a politician.”

“I have nothing in my past that I'm ashamed of.”

“Good. Then go mend things with the fiance and maybe pick a date for the wedding. A husband would look much better than a fiance.”

She got up but didn't leave.

“I need to ask.”

“Yes?”

“Your sons-”

“Yes, yes,” Gold said, knowing exactly what was coming. “Neal promised to be on his best behavior and his criminal record is nothing but a long list of petty crimes. There's nothing about Gideon that's remotely damaging to my reputation. Honestly, I almost wish there was.”

Belle took in a breath. “That's not what I mean.”

“Then what do you mean?” he pressed. “Beating around the bush won't get you elected.”

“You're a father before you are my campaign manager, that much I can tell and I respect that.”

“Are you worried I won't put in enough hours?”

“I'm worried you'll leave me if Cora comes after your boys.”

The question caught him off guard and required some thought on his part.

“Neal is a petty criminal who likes to cause trouble, that's all there is to worry about him. He was just arrested and he'll likely have to do community service a second time.”

“Okay.”

“He wants to work for you.”

“He does?”

“He believes you're doing important work.” Pause. “If he weren't my son, I wouldn't let him near your campaign. His criminal record won't help you.”

“I leave that decision in your hands. But I think people deserve second chances.”

“This would be more of a... seventh chance. But I see your point.”

“Is that all?”

“That's all. Gideon likes dark poetry, but I'm hoping that's just a phase.”

Belle laughed. She looked youthful and pretty when she laughed and Gold wasn't sure it was for the best to put her smiling face on a poster. Maybe she'd look more mature with a serious, determined expression.

“I'll go talk to Gage,” she promised.

“I'll expect an update later tonight.”

Gold got up and walked her to the front door, expecting to see Gage sitting on the sidewalk, waiting for the chance to start the fight again, but he was nowhere to be found.

Belle turned on her heels and offered her hand. “You won't regret this, Mr. Gold.”

“You keep saying that, and yet...”

When she left, there was a prance in her step. She was way too confident and he knew that this wasn't going to last. Hell, he wouldn't be surprised if she gave up in six months because politics was a difficult, heartbreaking business. But at least she was dedicated, he had to give her that.

Gold took out his cellphone to call Neal and remind him of his chores – which he'd probably already forgotten about – when he saw there was a new message from Cora. Four short but ominous words: _We need to talk._

 

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

Gold wasn't about to be summoned to Madam Acting Mayor's office like a peasant responding to the call of a queen. Cora could pull that off with any other person in town, but not with him. So the rest of their day was spent in a battle of wills, something they were both rather good at. After looking at the message, he locked his phone into a drawer and went about his day as usual. It started vibrating furiously and persistently within five minutes. Five missed calls, if he'd counted correctly, but he pretended not to see it.

He didn't think she'd come to his office, he wasn't a fool. Cora never came to you unless she was trying to lure you into a false sense of security. Ignoring her until she disappeared wasn't a smart move either. What he needed was to find the right balance between getting to Cora while she was still eager, but making her aware that it was his decision to come, that he wasn't doing this out respect for her.

“Sounds complicated,” Neal said, when he stopped by with his lunch. Gold had decided to avoid going outside so that Cora couldn't “run into him by accident”.

“It's politics, Neal. You'll understand once you start working on Miss French's campaign.”

“Ha! So that is happening!” It wasn't a question but rather a victory lap. “I knew it! Can't wait to tell Gideon.”

“I didn't say that it's happening. It's still under consideration.”

“But you will do it, I can feel it. There's only one reason why Cora would call you and you know it. The moment you realize how mad this whole thing makes her, you won't be able to resist.”

Gold shook his head. “You and Regina seem to think I'm rather petty.”

“We're all petty when it comes to our exes, dad. You're not above the rest of us.”

Neal went back to his chores – he'd showed his father a list of checked items that seemed to make him rather proud – and Gold went back to stalling and pretending he couldn't hear the mad vibration of his cellphone. Finally, as the day neared its end, he called Cora's office.

The secretary told him, “Madam Mayor is busy at the moment.”

“How unexpected.”

“However, she did tell me I can fit you into her busy schedule, as long as you're willing to come to her office at six.”

That gave him pause. As a rule, Gold didn't go into Cora's office, instead meeting her at the conference room down the hall from it. The glass walls gave them a false sense of propriety. If Henry caught a glimpse of them, Cora didn't seem to mind but Gold always felt his throat go dry. Once, when she wanted to avoid Henry overhearing a delicate subject, she'd come to his home unexpectedly and Neal had spent the entire time peeking into the office to offer tea, biscuits and, once, asking if the heater was working. Gold had told him his concern was unnecessary and annoying; his son had told him, in very clear terms, that he didn't give a damn.

Today, though, was an exceptional situation. And Henry was dead.

Cora still made him wait forty minutes once he got there and Gold, knowing that barging into her office would only give her the upper hand, brought a book along and read it patiently while sipping the cold coffee the secretary offered him.

“Madam Mayor will see you now,” the secretary announced.

“Acting Mayor,” he corrected, softly, but not soft enough that Cora couldn't hear him through the door.

Cora had gone easy on redecorating Henry's office, as there would be photo shoots there soon and she wouldn't want to look too eager. She was smiling when he got in and didn't say a word until the secretary had left.

“The florist's daughter,” Cora said, a smirk on the corner of her mouth. Her own personal way of saying that, yes, she knew what he was up to, and she found it rather amusing.

Gold shrugged as though he saw no problem with it. “What is wrong with the florist daughter?”

“If you wanted more money, you could've just asked.”

“I'm not doing it to force your hand.”

“No? So you just have a soft spot for that idiot girl?”

Another shrug. “Perhaps I do.”

Cora didn't waste time. She pushed a folded piece of paper towards him. Gold didn't need to look.

“It's not about the money, Cora.”

“It will be once you look at my offer.”

“I don't have to,” he said. He was curious but he knew a six-figure promise would be enough to turn his head around where common sense had failed him.

“You should do it anyway. It's enough to make sure your son gets into a good college. And Neal, if it comes to it.”

“As I said, it's not about the money.”

“Is it the challenge, then?” she asked. “You need a new hobby and that girl can provide sufficient distraction? I mean, really, Rum.” She snapped her tongue. “It's good to challenge ourselves every once in a while, but this is ridiculous. She won't survive a month in this race.”

“How did you hear about it anyway?” he asked, though he already had a guess.

“She happens to be engaged to Gabriel's son.”

“Yes?”

“Gabriel called me this morning, asking if I could talk some sense into the poor girl's mind. Apparently, she'd just locked her fiance outside _your_ shop so she could have a business meeting with you.” Cora laughed. “You gotta admire the spunk on that girl. Did she really lock him out?”

“Without hesitation, too.”

“I always thought she looked clever, that much I can give her. Gabriel's son, though, he wants to run and she's getting in the way of his political career. Or so Gabriel tells me.” She rolled her eyes. “I take it you've met him?”

“I've had the pleasure.”

“And your impressions?”

“I wouldn't let him run a food truck, let alone a town. Even this one.”

“Nor would I. Don't get me wrong, he's a handsome small-town boy. He looks the part, but the illusion is shattered when he opens his mouth.” Her eyes flickered to the piece of paper. When Gold pretended to have forgotten about it, she went on. “Now, that girl... she's sharp. She doesn't look like a politician but she is good looking and charismatic. No one has a bad word to say of her. Worst of all, she has good intentions. If she _were_ to run, then she might become a complication.”

Gold gave her a menacing smile. “Don't tell me you're afraid of the town librarian, Cora?”

“Worried is the word I'd use. I'm _worried_ about what you might turn her into.”

“A Mayor?”

“A distraction.” Cora paused. “This sounds like something your sons would trick you into doing, taking that girl under your wing.”

“Does it?”

“Well, Neal would. I can see him guilt-tripping you into it, that boy is all heart and he has you wrapped around his little finger. The other one is a bit more sensible.”

“The _other_ one?” he repeated. It wouldn't surprise him one bit if Cora had never bothered to learn his name.

However, she said, “Gideon.”

“And you wonder why my sons hate you.”

She chuckled. “Yes. Can you imagine the family we might have had, had things gone differently? I don't think I'm qualified to be a stepmother.”

“You're barely qualified to be a mother.”

Something glinted in Cora's eyes, as sharp as a blade. Even though she was smiling, the snide remark hadn't been ignored nor forgiven. Gold didn't bother to apologize.

“Speaking of motherhood,” she said, her voice calm and collected, “I don't appreciate you plotting with my daughter under my own roof.”

“Regina was the one to bring it up.”

“Yes, I figured that much. I knew she'd try to run. She did just about everything she could to convince Henry to leave me. And then she tried to convince him to let her be his Deputy the next time he ran, but Henry wouldn't hear of it. She couldn't rid him of me in life, so now she thinks she can avenge his honor by keeping me from office.”

“I told her therapy would be less of a bother.”

“I'm sure you provided a suitable shoulder for her to cry on.”

Cora paused and gave him a measuring look. Gold waited.

She said, “If Regina will run as well, then this is going to be twice as complicated. I don't want to waste time on that little girl.”

“If you quit now, you won't have to.”

Gold saw the slightest tremor pass her face, a sign that her patience was running thin, but her voice was even when she leaned forward and said, “Rum, you _know_ I'm going to win. It's the only outcome to this election. I've spent the last eight years making sure of it. I'll have the people's sympathy, the miners' trust, and the financial support I need to drag your girl to the ground. The only thing I don't have yet is the media, and that's because Regina's been in control of it for years. She will drag her name through the mud, and yours too.”

“I don't think you can find anything damaging to her reputation, not compared to you anyway.”

Cora leaned back. “Oh, there's always something. Or do you think she's told you all of her secrets already?”

“Somehow, I'm not worried about that one. Compared to yours, I think her secrets are rather tame.”

“Dirt isn't everything. People might question why you're helping her.”

“Yes, I can imagine,” he said, as though the threat bored him. “Regina isn't known for her creativity. She's probably going to claim we're having an affair and people will lap it up.”

He thought of Gabriel's son. He looked like he'd believe anything he saw in the news. There would be some damage control needed there.

“I'm drafting my response, you know?” Gold told her. “What do you think: I want it to be very clear that I am not sleeping with Miss French. Cora Mills is the only married woman I have ever had sex with.”

Cora's smile didn't falter. “You're making a mistake.”

“Am I?”

“We're coming for her, Rum. And when we do, who's going to protect you?”

“I'll be fine.”

“How about your sons?”

“What about them?”

“Will they be fine?”

Even though Gold knew it was coming, it still sparked something angry inside of him.

“Don't threaten my family, Cora.”

“I'm not threatening. I'm reminding you that you have two boys who need you to make smart decisions, for their sake.”

“I'm sure you have their well being in mind.”

“Of course I do. Gideon is just a poor little orphan boy, his junkie mother sticking needles in Seattle, his deadbeat dad somewhere in England, wanting nothing to do with him. Now his adoptive father takes on such a time-consuming position. No wonder he sees a therapist twice a week.”

Gold got up. “You wouldn't go after a child. I mean, don't get me wrong, you _would_ sink that low, but you wouldn't be that stupid.”

“I'm simply stating facts,” she said, unnervingly calm where Gold was feeling his blood boil. “How about the petty criminal? I've heard he's been having a hard time finding a job, hasn't he? Poor Neal. Unable to go to college, stuck in a small town forever. Then again, what college would take him at this point?”

“Good night, Cora,” he said, starting for the door.

She shouted after him, “I just want to know one more thing, Rum. After I make that little girl run away crying, are you going to see some sense and join my campaign, or Regina's?”

“I'm not sure, Cora,” he said, stopping at the door to look at her. “When my candidate beats you, are you going to roll over and die of shame, or just retire to Hyperion Heights like all losers do?”

Cora grinned wider than before. Predatory. The kind of smile that meant imminent destruction. Gold wouldn't admit it out loud, but it used to turn him on to see that look on her face. Right now, he couldn't remember why.

“Very well, Rum,” she said, folding her hands over the desk. “Go train your girl. I think it was about time we had a little fun in this town.”

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter took forever, but it's finally here.

The one lesson Gold had tried to teach his sons – especially Neal, though it never seemed to penetrate his thick skull – was that a man never made rushed decisions or reacted in the heat of the moment. Acting on emotion was bound to result in regret and shame. One should always go home, cool his head, then consider his options when deciding how to proceed next.

He'd just thrown that rule out of the window, though, and didn't seem to mind. Gold was burning with anger, like he hadn't been in a long time. Cora had a way of getting under his skin and he was usually prepared for it, but all of their interactions had always been relatively civil, all threats implied, shrouded in cold smiles and politeness. None of them directed to the people they loved, up until now. Seemed like professional courtesy and all the limits they had set for each other so be able to live in the same town without causing a bloody war had all been called off. It was a dangerous and volatile situation that Gold wasn't prepared for.

It was also terribly exciting. Even though he knew he should be going over every possible weak spot in his and the boys' lives that Cora could possibly explore, and then do everything in his power to protect them, Gold couldn't help but be tempted by a very enticing image that clang stubbornly to his head.

It was vivid and bright, and Belle French was at the center of it. In his mind, she was being sworn into office, emerging victorious from the race and taking everyone by surprise. She was dressed in a modest navy dress and appropriate heels, smiling just enough to look happy, but not gloating. She was a pretty girl, she'd photograph well enough. The idiot fiance would be in the back, having been told to smile and nod and not open his mouth. From the crowd, Regina was doing her best not to throw a tantrum. Cora was watching flabbergasted and humiliated, having been robbed from the power that she felt entitled to. The look on her face, though he could only imagine it, was priceless. It would be worth the uphill battle of turning that idealistic girl into a real contender. A force to be reckoned with.

Gold wasn't surprised to hear video game noises coming from the other side of the front door, and got ready to give Neal an earful for not sticking to the list of chores he'd been so proud of that morning. Then a sweet voice yelped, “No! No, Mario! You're going the wrong way!”

Gold walked into the house to the sound of Gideon's laughter. “You're pressing the wrong button.”

“I'm not doing anything, it's Mario! How do I fix it?”

“Turn around.”

“I _am_ turning around!”

“Actually, you're spinning, so...”

“Yes, but how do I _stop_ spinning-”

“What's going on here?” Gold asked, his anger forgotten at the sight of Belle, sitting in his living room, playing Xbox with his youngest son.

She looked over her shoulder just for a second, then looked back at the screen with a dismissive, “Oh, good evening Mr. Gold. Just a second.”

Gideon, as usual, didn't bother looking away. “I – am – defeating – her!” He pressed on buttons frantically to make that dinosaur-like character he always played with jump on a gigantic mushroom.

“Gloat all you want, it's not even that hard,” Belle said.

“You're not as bad as dad, Belle. Yes!”

His kart crossed the finish line.

Belle let out a dramatic “Noooo!” that was only to make Gideon laugh.

“Three-time champion, right here!”

“Well played, sir. Well played.”

They high-fived.

Gold watched from the doorway, unsure of what to say until she looked at him again, “Why don't you grab a joystick, Mr. Gold? Maybe then I'll have a fighting chance.”

“They're called controllers, Belle.”

“Well, in my time, they were called joysticks-”

“What the hell are you doing here?” Gold blurted out.

Gideon was the one to answer, “She's here for the meeting.”

“We didn't have a meeting.”

“You asked me for an update,” Belle said.

“I wanted a phone call, Miss French. You can't come to my house uninvited, especially when I'm not around.”

“Don't be rude, father,” Gideon said, finally looking at him and frowning as though _he_ were the disobedient child. “She even brought you wine. Besides, who's going to lose to me when Neal's all wrapped up doing your chores?”

Gold's eyebrows shot up. “He hasn't given up yet?”

From the kitchen, Neal's voice shouted, “ _I resent the yet_!”

“Play another round, I gotta talk to him.”

Belle didn't seem bothered at all at being asked to wait and told Gideon, “Let's try something else. Do you have a puzzle game?”

“Yes! This one has zombies in it!”

After a beat, Gold overheard her asking, “...Why?”

He closed the kitchen door behind himself. Neal looked up from his laptop.

“Do you know why she's here?”

“And hello to you, too, father dearest. Such bad manners.”

“Don't be funny. I've had a terrible evening.”

“Yes, I can see all the grumpy wrinkles on your face.”

“Now who should remember his manners?”

“I, on the other hand, had a very productive afternoon.”

He threw his father the notebook he'd showed him that morning. Al boxes from his list had been ticked. He'd even made a little tally mark under the word BEHAVE to represent day one.

“And you thought I wouldn't stick to it.”

“You did the groceries?”

“As instructed.”

“And you didn't buy sweets?”

“Not _a lot_ of sweets.”

“And Gideon did his homework?”

“He did his homework while I cleaned and took out the garbage.”

“And the laundry is...?”

“In the dryer.”

“And how about the pot roast?”

From the living room, Gideon's voice shouted, “ _Should I call Roderick?_ ”

Neal shouted back, “ _Goddamn it, Gid! I already said I'm ordering pizza!_ ” To his father, he said, “Kids are such a handful.” And winked.

Despite himself, Gold smiled. “Alright, alright. Not a bad start, son.”

“Thank you.”

“What happened to the pot roast?”

“Hm?”

“The pot roast you were supposed to put in the oven.”

Neal didn't look at him. “The pot roast was dropped on the floor.”

“Masterful use of the passive voice.”

“Wasn't it just? If I'd known you'd invited Belle over, I'd have ordered dinner sooner.”

Gold pulled up a chair. “I didn't invite her over. I asked her to call. She just decided to show up.”

“Ah! That makes more sense then you being social. Still, you gotta appreciate her bravery, you know, coming into your home-”

“I've already agreed to be her campaign manager, Neal. Drop the sales pitch.”

“Good, 'cause I've invited her for dinner.”

“Neal-”

“Think of it as payback for all of those endless business dinner I had to sit through with Cora. Besides, Belle's my boss now.”

“ _I'm_ your boss.”

“But she's _your_ boss.”

Gold looked at him with righteous indignation. “She most certainly is _not_!”

Neal grinned. “Does she have the power to fire you?”

Gold screwed his face at him.

Neal grinned even wider. “The florist's daughter is your boss.”

“Shut it.”

Neal let his father simmer down a bit and focused on ordering a pizza. Once he'd put the phone down, he said, “I asked her how it went, you know? The first meeting.”

“What did she say?”

“That you were very professional and thorough, and that she can't wait to work with you.”

“Right. So, basically-”

“Basically, I think she thinks you're a jerk, but she respects you.”

Gold didn't say anything.

“What is it?”

“What is what?”

“You have that look on your face.” When Gold didn't say anything, Neal added, “The _Cora_ look.”

“Well, I went to see her.”

“You can't go back on your word now.”

“No, that's not it. She knows what we're doing.”

“I bet she's mad.”

“She is.”

Neal smiled with delight. “Oh no, that's so _horrible_.”

“You gonna have to start taking this seriously if you're going to be a part of it.”

“I am taking it seriously. I've been reading the town chart for an hour now, with minimal YouTube breaks. Do you know how boring this is? Oh, there she is, the future Mayor of Storybrooke.”

Belle closed the door and said, “You're gonna jinx it if you keep calling me that.”

“Nonsense, they don't stand a chance.”

“Can I have a moment with your father?”

“Sure. I can use a break from all of this responsibility.”

“Don't get used to it. You're starting to work on her campaign tomorrow.”

“What will I do?”

“What I tell you to.”

Neal laughed. “Nice. I've always wanted to be a henchman.”

“Don't use that word.” Once he was gone, Gold turned to look at Belle. She was standing near the door, as polite and proper as she'd been that morning. Didn't even look like she'd come into his house without an invitation. He asked, “Why are you really here?”

She shrugged. “I'm giving you an update.”

“Don't insult my intelligence, Miss French. I know a power play when I see one.”

“This isn't a power play.” She paused, then decided that honesty might be the best course of action and said, “I wanted to talk to your sons and see if they'd really asked you to run my campaign, or if you were just saying that to get my trust.”

“You came to see if I was lying?”

“Before you get offended-”

“I'm not, I'm reasonably impressed. I mistook you for the trusting kind.”

“I am trusting, but Gage got into my head.”

“How is Gage?”

She flinched. “About that-”

“What has he done now?”

He expected her to be mildly miffed with his choice of words. Instead, she said, “Gage has made it clear and in no uncertain terms that our engagement will be called off if I pursue this, and I quote, 'political nonsense'.”

Gold feared as much and it didn't make him happy. One the one hand, he didn't think Gage would be much of an asset, other than acting as Belle's arm candy and living proof that this was a good, traditional girl at heart. On the other hand, he didn't like the thought of Gage out of his sight, probably in possession of Belle's texts, pictures, and secrets. Resentment was a powerful thing. He'd much rather have the boy near, where he could be controlled and used to Belle's advantage.

“Are you still pursuing this?” he asked.

Now she seemed miffed. “You still don't think I'm taking this seriously.”

“So you've broken up.”

“We're... in a limbo, so to speak.”

“You don't look heartbroken.”

“Do you want me to fake some tears to gain the voters' sympathy?”

“I'm not sure. Let me think about-”

“I was joking!”

“You shouldn't be. And anyway, your relationship has just stopped being a pressing issue.”

“How so?”

“Remember how I told you Cora and Regina were going to be your greatest challenge?” Gold asked her.

“Yes?” she said, already sensing that something was wrong.

“Cora and I just had a meeting and, long story short, I've made our situation ten times worse.”

For a moment, Belle was quiet. Then, she asked, “How?”

“I've rubbed it in her face that we're going to win this race. I might have also called her a loser.”

“Ah. Not that I don't have dull confidence in myself but... why?”

“She said some things about my boys I didn't appreciate.”

“Such as?”

“Such as implying that she'd have no qualms going after them to get at me.”

“And you're still here.”

“I told you I would be.”

Belle nodded and pulled up a chair. “Well then, Mr. Gold, let's talk strategy. If we don't win this, we'll both look _really_ stupid.”

 


End file.
